Onesided Italian Civil War
by RedHatMeg
Summary: "Brother, are you still mad at me?" Feliciano asked.No response. Good, Romano. That's how it should be done. "Brother?" Silence. Let him ponder about it deeper. Let him feel your anger in subtle way. Let him know that you won't forgive him easily.
1. Part 1

**At first I planned it to be one-shot, but I gave up and decided to make it two-, maybe three-shot. Anyway- you know I love reviews, so if you want to see next chapter show me how much you care XD.**

**One-sided Italian Civil War**

South Italy wore a straw hat and took the basket in his hand. He was waiting for this day whole three months. The tomatoes outside his house were ripe enough to harvest them. They were big and so tastefully red… Romano just couldn't wait to go and gather them all. He was going to do later pasta or pizza with his newly harvested tomatoes. Besides, the harvesting itself was always making him relaxed. He felt some kind of satisfaction, when he was gathering his own tomatoes, which he himself planted and was taking care of during whole year.

He walked down the stairs, passed the hallway and moved across living room to come out to the garden. The sun in the windows was shining brightly, but he was prepared. He had so good mood that probably if someone came to Italies and looked in his direction, he/she wouldn't believe his/her eyes. His usual grimace was gone. He was walking through the yard with carefree steps. Only one door was separating him from view of his beloved tomato field. When he turned the knob and opened it; when he looked at the garden; when he saw his yard; when his expectations met with what was waiting for him, he couldn't believe his eyes.

His brother was harvesting his tomatoes. Seeing Romano, Feliciano grinned and waved to him innocently.

"Hello, brother! You were really tired last night, so I decided to harvest your tomatoes!"

Romano hadn't said anything. He was only standing in the open door and staring blankly at his tomato field. Feliciano gathered almost all of them, only three-four were left on the bushes. And North Italy bowed under one of them. Like in the slow motion, he caught it, detached the fruit from petiole and put it gently in the basket.

Feliciano's grinned face dropped, when he saw the expression of shock on his brother's face and Romano's lack of response.

"Brother, are you OK?"

Romano couldn't take it anymore.

"I hate you!" He screamed and got back to the house, harshly closing the door behind himself.

Then he ran upstairs to his bedroom. Feliciano was fallowing him, constantly asking with concern, what happened, but South Italy was too angry with him to answer. He locked himself in the room, leaned his back on the door and sat on the floor. Soon he heard the steps of North Italy, who quickly ran to him and tried to open the entry to his brother's bedroom. It was useless. Feliciano quickly realized it and left doorknob alone.

"Brother! Brother, open it, please."

"No fucking way!"

"But, brother, what have I done wrong now?"

"I don't want to see your face, you damn twat!"

"Brother, I don't understand, why you're so mean to me! Come on, get out from here and let's talk!"

"Get off, Feliciano! I hate you!"

"Brother, please…"

"Are you deaf? I said: get off!"

"OK. I will come back, when you'll chill out."

Romano heard, how his little brother is retreating. Soft steps were going down the stairs, becoming quieter and quieter with every second. Soon South Italy heard nothing, but chirping of birds from the outside. And once again he felt that they were mocking him.

In one quick moment this beautiful morning had been shuttered. Romano still was seeing this scene before his eyes: Feliciano harvesting his tomatoes. And South Italy couldn't resist the impression that his little brother was like an octopus – he had to take all things around him with those tentacles of his. Feliciano was good at trade. OK. His paintings were amazing. Fine. He could easily make new acquaintances and people liked him more. Good. Romano had reconciled with it all long time ago. He had let go with the fact that his brother was better than him in almost everything. He came to conclusion that it would be the best if he will stay away from most of his brother's specialties and take care of his own ones.

But it seems, the only thing that belonged to Romano, wasn't sacred enough for Feliciano to not take it too. Damn little bastard… Romano hadn't remembered, when he was so mad at his brother last time. He wanted to punish him in some way. Not in physical way, of course, but in the way that will clearly show Feliciano, how much his older brother is pissed at him.

He was thinking about it whole morning. The only other thing, he was eventually pondering, was his brother's crime and the way he was so annoyingly better in everything, Romano wasn't – from the abilities to the attention of others. And Romano felt so unloved and so overlooked that he was angry with Feliciano even more. North Italy came few times to ask him, what's wrong and do he want to stay in his room all day, but South Italy was only yelling at him to go away. So North was retreating and leaving South alone with his anger.

Meanwhile his stomach started to growl, delicately telling Romano that he should soon eat something. His hunger was slowly growing and Romano wondered, what to do – wait for Feliciano to do dinner or go to the restaurant. At first he was seriously considering going out, since he remembered that North Italy's cooking is also better than his own and that he would probably have to watch him during whole dinner. But then he thought that meal with his brother was giving him lots of opportunities.

Around 2 o'clock he heard steps in the hallway. Few seconds later someone knocked to his door and soon Feliciano had spoke cheerfully:

"Brother! I've made pasta! Come, eat with me!"

Romano unlocked his bedroom and opened. He shot his brother one, really cold gaze, then turned back to him and closed the door. He began to walk downstairs to the kitchen, don't looking at Feliciano nor saying a word to him.

"Brother, are you still mad at me?" Feliciano asked.

No response. Good, Romano. That's how it should be done.

"Brother?"

Silence. Let him ponder about it deeper. Let him feel your anger in subtle way. Let him know that you won't forgive him easily.

"Brother, why are you mad at me?"

Romano wanted to answer, but he remained silent. Feliciano should come to it few hours ago, but Romano didn't want to help him. After all North Italy wasn't that thickheaded.

South Italy sat the table, leaning his chin on hand and looking at the window. North Italy was observing him with concern. When Romano's eyes rolled in Feliciano's way, he saw expression of fear on this usually cheerful face. He fought with himself to not smile upon this view. Feliciano seemed to be near to cry, but after a moment of just standing in one place, he quickly moved to the kitchen. After few minutes he came back with plates of pasta in both hands. He put one of them in front of Romano and the other on his right. He returned to kitchen and brought forks. He quickly gave one to his brother and sat at the place beside him. He smiled lightly to Romano, but South Italy ignored him, took the fork and began to eat his dinner in silence. North Italy's smile dropped and he only focused on the meal.

But he couldn't stay silent for a long.

"Hey, brother." He began with smile. "you want to hear funny story?"

Silence. Romano was only eating. Feliciano's smile dropped, but he grinned again.

"Well, me and Ludwig were walking through the Venice, "He began, gesticulating vividly." And guess what? He said that he want to sail on gondola. But when he found one, he started to hesitate. Imagine, brother! He was afraid of falling into water! When I convinced him to take this ride, he started to be extra careful. He cautiously put one foot into gondola, then another and he slowly sat on the bench, sighing with relief. Such big guy and he was getting into small boat like a young girl!" He laughed.

Romano's lips twitched upon thought of girly Germany, but he quickly returned to being serious and ignoring his brother. Seeing that his little trick didn't work, Feliciano cleared his throat and tried again, grinning:

"You know, brother, Kiku said, he had read _Decameron_, but he was acting strange, when he returned it to me. He said it was," Feliciano made a 'quote' gesture." 'too shameless for his liking'." He giggled once again.

And again he received no response from his brother. Feliciano's expression changed from cheerful to sad. He took few bites of pasta, but after nearly three minutes of silence, he couldn't take it anymore. Normally, when North Italy done something, which made South Italy angry, the older of brothers was exclaiming his pretences at him. But this time Romano was silent. And he was treating Feliciano like an air. This was driving younger Italian crazy.

"Brother, why are you mad at me?" He asked for the fourth time this day. When Romano didn't even looked at him, Feliciano said with more frantic tone: "Please, tell me! I don't know, what's wrong! If you could explain it to me, I would try to fix it."

South Italy took the last bite of the pasta, gulped it and wiped his mouth with the napkin. Then he carried his dishes to the kitchen's sink and started preparing to leave. He wore his boots and went to the room to take his wallet. When he was downstairs again, he ran to the front door. Whole this time Feliciano was only sitting on his seat and observing it with sad gaze. He thought that maybe his brother need some fresh air, so he wasn't protesting or asking any questions. He also didn't run after his brother, when he heard, how door had been closed.

Waiting for him was the most cruel, psychical torture, Italy had been put in since really long time. Romano wasn't coming back home for so long that Feliciano managed to finish his pasta, wash the dishes, take a two-hour (rather restless) nap, wash Romano's tomatoes, calling to Spain, in case Romano was there (he wasn't) and in addition spend rest of the afternoon and evening walking from one side of the living room to another. South Italy hadn't called even once, like he wouldn't care that his little brother is longing for him and he want to apologize for whatever he had done.

It was 6 pm and North Italy still didn't know, why South Italy was so mad at him. Not that Feliciano wasn't thinking about it. He spent most of this day, wondering what he had done to Romano that he wasn't yelling at him, but treating like an air. Romano always was hard to read. It was always hard to say, what he was thinking or feeling, while he was yelling at somebody. Mostly because the causes of his angry outbursts seemed to be about something stupid or banal. But after deeper thought, it seemed that he was mad at something else, something deeper.

Obviously, this time Feliciano was instantly thinking, Romano didn't like that his brother was messing with his tomato field, but – well – it seemed to be too plain and too banal to be that mad about. Feliciano was many times barrowing and returning, breaking and using Romano's stuff, and Romano always was angry with him for at most fifteen minutes. There was no way, it could be about tomato field. What was the real reason then?

Around midnight, when Feliciano was asleep on the sofa, the front door cracked and Romano came in. North Italy immediately woke up to put his sleepy gaze at South Italy, who was removing his shoes and looked in his direction. Feliciano smiled to him, but he only shot him one, intimidating glance and returned to his shoes. Younger of the men stood up and ran to his brother. He wrapped his arms around Romano and started to scream:

"Brother, please forgive me! I'm sorry, I really do! Please, don't be angry with me!"

Romano pushed him away and once again looked at his brother angrily. With agitated steps he began to climbing on the stairs. Feliciano was observing with sadness, how he was abandoning him in the hallway. When South Italy got upstairs, North Italy heard the unlocking of the door and then harsh slamming of wooden entrance to Romano's bedroom.

That was the moment, when Feliciano couldn't help himself, but cry.


	2. Part 2

**Remember about comments. Pretty please~**

**Romano: Or I won't forgive this damn crybaby.**

**You've heard him.**

**One-sided Italian Civil War – Part 2**

Germany was standing at Italy's door and wondering, why he had been called here anyway. Romano didn't like him, so how Ludwig could help Feliciano to solve the problem with his brother. However, North Italy had this tone of despair in the voice, and Germany didn't want to leave his friend in such hopeless situation. So he had read a lot of guide books about family relations and he even consulted with Austria, but the man wasn't very useful ("Leave them alone, Ludwig. I'm sure Romano will be talking with Feliciano, when he will realize that this whole paranoia is useless.").

And here he was on Italy's doorstep, waiting for someone to open. Soon the door cracked open and blue eyes of the German met with brown ones of the Italian. Feliciano smiled to him lightly and let him in. Normally when Ludwig was in Italy's house, Romano was quickly spotting him and yelling something like: "What the hell are you doing here, potato head? Get out!", but this time Germany heard only silence.

"Brother is upstairs, in his room." Italy said with nervous expression. "When he's in home, he spends most of the time there."

"Well then. Let's go."

Italy started climbing on the stairs. Germany fallowed him and soon they both stood in front of the door of Romano's bedroom. Ludwig knocked and began to listen carefully what was happening on the other side of the door. There was only silence. After few seconds of no response. Germany knocked once again.

Silence.

Romano thought that it was still Feliciano and continued to ignore his brother, smiling widely. He was doing it every time, when Feliciano was coming here, begging him to open and to talk with him. But South Italy was stubborn. He wanted to make his brother feel pain. It was cruel, nevertheless his wrath hadn't faded away even a bit. Moreover – he supposed that his brother probably called to his every friend and received some words of comfort. And this thought was making Romano angry even more. He even felt… lonely. It would be nice to tell somebody, what he was going through right now.

Germany cleared his throat and knocked one last time, breaking the silence:

"Romano?"

South Italy's expression changed from cheerfulness to shock.

"Romano, it's me, Ludwig. I came to talk with you."

Romano was hesitating for a moment. He hadn't thought that he would have to deal with any of his brother's friends. Especially this damn macho potato. But South Italy didn't have to ignore this macho potato, just like he was ignoring his brother.

"Fuck off, potato head!"

"No, I will stay here, until you will come out and tell me, why you don't talk with your brother."

"It's not your fucking business, bastard! Get off!"

"It _is_ my business. Feliciano asked me for help and I want to help you both get along."

Romano was shuddering from anger. He remembered a moment, when he had made a jest from himself in front of Germany. He remembered, how he told about it his brother and North Italy started telling him, how good person is Ludwig. Romano never heard from his brother that he was nice or muscular. In fact he never heard from his brother anything good about himself.

And suddenly he wanted them both to go away and leave him alone.

"Oh, yeah? Why do he have to get along with me, when he's perfectly getting along with you, potato head?"

"So you're jealous about me and Feliciano?" Germany asked.

Romano got into conclusion that just responding to their questions won't make them leave, so he decided to use more radical means. He stood up and took a broomstick that was standing in the corner of his room. Then he opened his door and pointed the broomstick in Ludwig's direction, making him frown.

"Get out, potato bastard!"

"Romano, please, put it down." Germany tried to remain calm, but his voice was shaking a bit.

"I won't put it down!" South Italy yelled and with one quick move drew the broomstick into Germany's stomach.

Ludwig lurched and leaned his back on the wall. He looked at Romano, who once again pointed his weapon at stunned German.

"Well, potato head? Will you go away?"

"Brother, please, listen…" Feliciano began.

"I'm not talking to you, idiot!" Romano yelled at him, but quickly returned to Ludwig: "Get out, potato bastard. Stay away and leave me alone."

"I'm sorry, Romano, but I can't leave."

They both were looking into the eyes of the other. Romano knew, Ludwig won't give up easily. If it's needed, he will spent whole day here. And South Italy didn't want to tell them anything nor deal with them at all. So there was only one way out.

"Fine." Romano growled and leaned the broomstick on the wall. "If you won't leave, then I will do it."

He passed his brother and quickly went down the stairs. Germany and North Italy went after him and stopped in the hallway, when he began to putting up his shoes.

"So you're running away, Romano?" Germany asked. South Italy sent him cold glare.

"Yes, potato bastard." He said harshly. "And don't fallow me."

He took the jacket from the hanger and wore it.

"Can you at least tell me, why you so angry with Feliciano?" Ludwig asked, definitely being near to lose his patience.

"Oh, it's quite simple, bastard." Romano replied, straightening himself. "That's because he was born."

And then he – just like that – went out, leaving his brother and Germany alone. Feliciano started to cry, Ludwig patted his friend's back in gesture of comfort. When that didn't make Feliciano stop crying, he put him into awkward hug.

"Brother hate me." Italy wept.

"No, I'm sure, he's just upset about something." Ludwig tried to comfort him. "We only need to find out, what exactly he's angry about."

* * *

Romano was walking around the Rome and finally decided to sit on a bench near some lovely fountain, and think what to do next. When he sat comfortably and began to watch everything that was around him, suddenly he heard his cell phone ringing. He drew it out from his pocket and checked the caller ID. It was Japan. He clicked green button on his cell.

"Hello?"

"_Moshi Moshi_, Romano-san." Calm voice of Japan responded. "Excuse me, if I'm calling to you in bad moment, but I need to talk with you about important matter."

"What is it?" Romano asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Forgive me, if what I ask is too personal. I've heard that you're mad at Feliciano-san for some reason and I would like to help you both get along."

Romano expected it. Kiku and Feliciano were very good friends. It was only a question of time, until Japan will try to "help them both get along". South Italy's relations with Japan weren't bad. During WW2 he was tolerating the man better than potato bastard. Kiku always seemed to be neutral. He wasn't showing any deeper affection towards his brother, just professional interest of an ally. Of course, he was complimenting Feliciano's architecture and painting skills, but he wasn't so damn in love with him like the others. That was the reason, Romano liked the quiet little Asian so much.

Right now he hoped that Kiku Honda will show him some solidarity. But he had to find out one thing…

"Why you want us to get along?"

"Well, that's because Feliciano-san is a friend of mine and…"

That was enough. Romano clicked red button on his cell phone and disconnected. There was no point in listening further. South Italy lied on the bench and began to stare at the blue sky. They all were for his brother. Oh, poor, little Feliciano, who had been hurt once again by his cruel brother! Poor, little Feliciano, who can easily start to cry and it only make others like him more! Poor, little Feliciano, who is considered by everybody as cute in every possible way!

"Poor, little Feliciano my ass." Romano whispered, particularly to nobody.

Hours were passing. The sky above him changed from light blue to orange, but South Italy wasn't moving from his spot. He felt somehow forgotten. It wasn't foreign thing to him, but what he could do with it? He was lying on the bench with bent knees and hands lingered on the stomach. He was observing as the sky becomes navy blue. The cold breeze could be felt in the air. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to face his stupid brother and Germany. He wanted to stay here. At least here there was no Feliciano and his defenders. Romano seriously considered sleeping tonight on this bench.

But when he closed his eyes, he felt, how someone was leaning upon him. He looked at that person and saw worried face of Feliciano. Romano quickly gazed in search of Ludwig, but it seemed that the German was nowhere to be found. So South Italy relaxed a bit and decided to observe the fountain. Meanwhile North Italy kneeled down and sent him worried look.

"Brother." He began. "Brother, come home with me. You will freeze here."

Romano turned his gaze on Feliciano. The younger of Italians could see boredom and tiredness in his eyes. But he received no response, nor it seemed that Romano was going to move.

"Brother, please." North Italy almost begged. He put his hand on South Italy's one, but Romano quickly removed it and turned back to fountain.

"Go away." He said quietly.

He expected Feliciano to be sad again. But surprisingly to him, North Italy smiled widely with happiness.

"Brother! You've spoke with me!"

Romano felt stupid, but oh well… this one time he could speak with Feliciano normally. However…

"It doesn't mean I forgave you, bastard."

"Come on, brother." Feliciano started to pulling him by shirt. "It's not good place for sleeping here."

"It's perfect place."

"Police will take you as a homeless. Brother, don't be stubborn."

But Romano was as stubborn as he could be. Even when Feliciano had made him fall from bench to the ground, he remained unmoved. North Italy sighed deeply upon his brother's body.

"Can you at least tell me, brother, what's wrong?"

"Leave me alone." Romano curled into ball. "I hate you."

"I will leave you alone, when we come back to our place. You will go to bed and be on your own, I promise, but you have to go with me."

South Italy was silent. The perspective of his bed was really nice, however he feared that if he will listen to his brother, it might mean his surrender. And this time he wasn't going to surrender. He was too angry with Feliciano to let him win. So he looked up at his brother and sent him cold glance.

"If I would like to go home, I will go. I know the way. Now, leave me alone."

"Are you sure, brother? You don't want even a blanket?"

"Yes, I am!" He screamed angrily. He rapidly stood up in front of Feliciano. "And since when you worry about me so much?"

"I… I…" North Italy was too scared of his brother to say something more.

"Get out, you damn crybaby!"

It worked. Feliciano quickly retreated and ran way from angry Romano in the nearest alley. South Italy lied once again on the bench, hid his cell phone in the inner pocket of his jacket and returned to stargazing. He fell asleep around five am. When he woke up, it was nine. He stood up, yawned and decided to finally go home.

When he returned to his house, North Italy was sitting at the dining table. Seeing South Italy in the hallway, he immediately rose from his chair, but he didn't move from the spot. Romano gave him one short glance and went to kitchen to eat something. After a minute he dashed to his room with sandwich in his hand. Feliciano was happy that his brother was back, however he knew, it didn't mean everything will be fine from now on.

After longing for his brother to come home and finally seeing him about ten am, Feliciano decided to call Antonio. He drew out his cell phone from the pocket and soon he was calling to Spain. About half a minute later Antonio spoke cheerfully:

"_Hola_, Feliciano. How are you?"

"I need your help, brother Antonio."

"Of course. How can I help you?"

"You know brother better than I. He's mad at me, but I don't know why. He's not talking to me, he's avoiding me and… and I don't know why!"

"Calm down, Feliciano. First time I hear about something like that. Romano wasn't acting this way, when he was my territory…" There was a moment of silence, probably Spain was pondering about something. Finally he said with his usual cheerful voice: "But tell me everything from the start. What happened before he began to ignore you?"

"Well, I was harvesting his tomatoes, when he opened the door and saw me, and then he…"

"Wait, wait, wait." Spain suddenly cut him off. "You did _what_?"


	3. Part 3

**One-sided Italian Civil War – Part 3**

"I harvested his tomatoes." North Italy replied a bit nervously.

Spain couldn't believe, what he just heard. It wasn't good. Definitely not good.

"Why did you do it?" He asked after moment of silence.

"I… I didn't want to hurt him or anything!" Feliciano tried to defend himself. "Brother was tired after previous night and I thought that it would be nice if I'd help him a little with his tomato field."

"Did he ask you for help?" Antonio had to make it clear to himself.

"Well, no, but…"

"Have you informed him earlier that you will harvest his tomatoes?"

"No, but…"

"_Dios mio_! Feli, have you lost your mind?" Antonio screamed, but then he calmed himself down. "Wait for me. I'm on my way to you."

He hung up the phone and started to prepare for a ride to Italies' house. He wore his shoes took the most needed things and came out from his home. Few minutes later he was driving to Italy in his car. He could only imagine what Romano was thinking or feeling right now, but Antonio perfectly knew, what exactly his former charge was angry for. And Spain knew that he was probably the only one, who could help him get out from this. After all he had done it once…

About two o'clock Spain arrived to Italies' place. Feliciano opened door and Antonio stormed to his house. Feliciano could easily see that he was nervous and animated. He obviously worried about something.

"Feli." He finally spoke, turning his face on younger of the Italians. "Is Romano home?"

"Yes, in his room." North Italy replied.

"Thank you." He only said with a nod.

Then he quickly dashed upstairs. Feliciano fallowed him to Romano's door. Antonio knocked – unhurriedly and softly, like he was going to check if South Italy was asleep or worked at something really important. At first there was only silence, since Romano still didn't want to speak with Feliciano. Spain and North Italy exchanged worried faces. Then Antonio returned to Romano's door and knocked to them once again. He had opened his mouth to say something, but the one, who spoke first, was Feliciano:

"Brother, please, open! Someone want to talk to you!"

"If it's you, potato head, then get out!" Was South Italy's reply.

"No, Romano." Spain began. "It's me, Antonio."

On the other side of the door the eyes of South Italy widened. Then he felt a sudden wave of acrimony and feeling of betrayal. Spain… Spain, of all people! If even his closest person is standing at his stupid brother's side, then he had already lost. Romano felt, how his eyes are filling with tears and these tears are waiting to be spill, but he was fighting with them. He won't cry like Feliciano.

"Get… get out, tomato bastard!" He screamed with shaking voice and even stood up.

"No, Romano. I'm not going to leave you like that." Spain said calmly.

"You're just another person, who came here because my dumb brother cried for your help!" Romano yelled, his voice even more shaky. "_He_ had done something to me, but you all don't care! You only see _my_ fault, not his! You want to help _him_, not me!"

"That's not true, Romano." Spain responded. He remained calm, but inside he was really worried about his step brother. "I've came here not because of Feliciano, but because of you. I want to help _you_ and no one else."

"You're lying!"

"No, it's true and you know it. I want to know, how you feel. I want to hear whole story from the very beginning, 'til the end. Romano, please, open this door and let me help you."

Hearing it South Italy felt, how something inside him was melting and making him warm. He said nothing. For a first few seconds he was thinking, what to do. Should he doubt Antonio's intentions and didn't let him in? Or maybe the Spaniard can be trusted and Romano had to open his door to him?

"Others may not take your side, but I do." Spain said suddenly. "Because I know you. You're my little brother. I was taking care of you for centuries. I will understand you. So, please, let me help you."

Romano stood up. After few seconds door had been unlocked and cracked open. South Italy was now standing in front of Spain and looking into his eyes. Then he gazed coldly at North Italy, who was still standing in the hallway and observing everything.

"Don't interrupt us or I will beat you up." He threatened his little brother. Then he looked once again at Spain and just moved aside.

Antonio smiled to him friendly and without saying a word, he came in. Romano closed the door and turned to his guest, who was still smiling to him. Spain sat on the bed and, looking at South Italy, clapped the place beside him. The Italian used the invitation and soon they both were sitting really close to each other. Spain stopped smiling and looked at him with more compassionate expression.

"So, Romano, what Feliciano had done to you?"

Romano couldn't resist anymore. Something broke inside of him and all the emotions from past few days morphed into one feeling – utter sadness and hurt. He started to cry. In front of any other man, he would be too ashamed to shed even one tear, but Antonio had seen him crying so many times that he was comfortable with it.

"He… he had harvested my tomatoes." South Italy sobbed. "He was just standing on my tomato field, harvesting them and smiling to me with this stupid grin of his. He was putting them to the basked. My beautiful, ripe tomatoes, I was taking care of during whole this year. My beautiful tomatoes, I wanted to harvest myself."

Feliciano, who was standing at his brother's door and listening everything carefully, frowned. He felt a bit weird and guilty. He hadn't thought about it this way. That he took a fruits of Romano's hard work.

Antonio wrapped his arm around Romano and placed hand on his shoulder. The Italian continued:

"But it doesn't matter now. Now they aren't mine anymore."

"Wait, Romano." Spain looked into his eyes with light smile. "Just because Feliciano harvested them before you, it doesn't mean, they aren't yours. They will be always belonging to you."

"Of course, it means they aren't mine, dumbass!" South Italy screamed and once again burst into tears. "It's always like that! Everything Feliciano touches, is his. He's better than me in painting, cooking, making friends… in trade, international relations, cultural conversation and in every single thing, he does. A wonder boy, who is praised and desired by everyone. On the other hand, I am a guy, who nobody compliments; who nobody finds cute, nice or talented in some special way; who nobody cares about. He's everything, I'm not."

North Italy felt something cold within him, but he was listening still. He never thought that his brother could feel this way.

"Hey, don't say such thing!" Spain slammed friendly his former charge's shoulder. "For me you're really cute. I always call you that."

"Yesterday, when I was out, Kiku had phoned to me." Romano looked at Antonio with sorrow. "He wanted to talk about why I'm angry with Feliciano and to help us 'get along'. I've asked him, why he want to know it. Do you know, what was his answer?"

"What?"

"_Well, that's because Feliciano-san is a friend of mine…_ He didn't say: 'Feliciano-san and you are friends of mine'." His voice started to shake and another tears ran down his cheeks. "He said: 'Feliciano-san is friend of mine'. Do you know, what that means?"

"I'm sure Japan likes you too." He smiled lightly.

"Why should he likes me? Why should _anybody_ like me?" He wept.

"There are few reasons…" Antonio began, but he had been cut by Romano:

"Oh yeah? I'm useless, everybody knows that, even you. When I was in your house, I was constantly breaking something during cleaning."

"Hey, that doesn't count." Spain said. "You've had chorea."

"Still, you wanted to exchange me for Feliciano. Even you thought that I was useless. Even you didn't want me as me."

And then he bowed his head. Now he was staring at the space before him. Antonio felt sudden wave of guilt, but he straightened himself and looked into Romano's filled with tears eyes. On the other hand, Feliciano felt strange weight on his chest and acrimony in his mouth.

"I was stupid." Spain finally spoke. "I was comparing you to him, instead of treating you like an individual person. I couldn't see, who you really are and I wasn't thinking about your feelings. I think that few people are doing the same mistake."

"No, they are right." Romano said quietly. "I'm nobody. And I always will be."

Then he turned once again at the emptiness. Feliciano on the other side of door wanted to dash inside and say to his brother: "No, you're not nobody!", but he decided to leave it to Antonio, especially since Romano was still angry with his brother.

"I was good only in farming tomatoes." Romano whispered and looked back at Antonio. "My tomato field was my kingdom. Now there's nothing left for me."

Spain was observing with sadness the depression of his former charge and he felt like he was once again boss of South Italy. He could almost see on his left side little Romano, broken and upset. The words, he was saying, weren't much different from the ones, he said back then, in the moment of honesty.

_Everyone likes Feliciano more. He's better than me in painting and trade. He's everything, I'm not. I'm nothing…_

Antonio knew, he had to do something or else this time Romano will stay like this forever. Spain looked once again into his eyes. He forced a small, friendly smile and said:

"Can you show me those tomatoes, Romano?"

South Italy rose his eyes on Spain and stopped crying.

"They should be in the kitchen. Why you want to see them?" He asked with surprised look.

"Come on." Spain smiled even wider and stood up. "Let's go to kitchen."

South Italy didn't say anything more. He fallowed after his former boss, wondering what was now on Spain's mind. Meanwhile North Italy carefully moved from his spot to the stairs to not let his brother know that he listened their private conversation. When Antonio opened the door and both men left the room, Feliciano was in the midway to the ground floor. Romano only passed him without notice and led his guest downstairs to the kitchen.

Tomatoes were standing on the cupboard, next to electric pot and rest of the fruits and vegetables. Feliciano hadn't even moved them from the basket to the bowl. Romano and Antonio approached them, Feliciano on the other hand was observing everything from the hallway. Spain took one of tomatoes and watched it for a few seconds.

"Look here, Romano." He showed it to South Italy. "It seems that Feliciano held it too tight. He almost squashed it."

Romano had to agree with him. He quickly spotted two small, shallow cavities on the both sides of fruit. Spain put it again in the basket and took the other one. It was small and light yellow, almost green. When Romano looked into basket, he saw there few other tomatoes, which was looking like that.

"Dumbass, he took unripe ones too." South Italy said.

"And look at this one." Spain drew out from the basket a tomato with cracked skin on it's right side. The cracking ran from the top to the bottom of tomato. "It should be in a trash, nevertheless Feli left it here. Let's face it – he have absolutely no idea, how to harvest tomatoes. It's a miracle, they are still in quite good shape. I know what I'm saying. I was the one, who taught you, how to take care of tomatoes."

Normally North Italy would be depressed because of those words, but this time he was glad to hear them. Because it meant that his brother won't be sad. Feliciano came closer to the door and still observed Romano and Antonio in the kitchen.

"And it's not the only thing, you 're better than him." Spain said, put the cracked tomato on the table and looked with seriousness at South Italy. "If you will focus only on the things he's good at; if you will be constantly comparing yourself to him, you won't get any further, you won't make any progress. You will always think about yourself as the worse half of Italy, which isn't true. Neither of you are the worse one. Remember about it or else, you will be always frustrated and angry."

Romano was silent for a moment. He felt a lot better than in previous few days. He felt happy, self-confident and… relieved. Some great heaviness had been taken from his heart. Everything was clear and friendly. He looked at the tomatoes in the basket and suddenly they seemed to be once again his. He spent too much time in the garden, taking care of them, to make them Feliciano's. His brother never worked in the tomato field, he always waited, until Romano will harvest them, then he was either cooking pasta or trading them to other countries, who were complimenting its flavor. And even though Feliciano was the one, who experienced renaissance, Romano knew more about Rome's history. After all grandpa left his inheritance to him, not to his brother. And North Italy didn't have a lot of fighting spirit. He rather preferred to wave the white flag or ask this potato head for help. South Italy wanted to laugh at his previous silly thoughts.

But he saddened. Still Antonio was the only one, who stood by his side. Spain was the only nation, who ever liked him. Others wanted to reconcile Romano with his brother, because they were friends with Feliciano. Antonio was the one, who had made all the way here to help his former charge. _I want to help **you** and no one else…_ Spain was truly his friend. He always knew, what to do to make South Italy feel better.

Suddenly Romano's eyes rolled on the door and he saw for the first time that Feliciano was standing there. The younger of brothers put his gaze down, like he was ashamed of something. For a few seconds there was only silence. South Italy was observing his little brother and couldn't resist the feeling of sadness in his chest. When he once again realized that he wasn't worse than North Italy, he also realized why he wanted so badly to unite with him. They were brothers after all. There was really strong bond between them. They might be slightly different, but together they were forming one country. And Romano actually loved his brother, even though others seemed to like him more. He also knew that Feliciano loved him too.

And he probably had to be really sad, since his own brother was ignoring him and saying that he hate him.

So Romano came closer to Feliciano and said:

"Don't touch my tomatoes without my permission. _Ever_. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, brother." Was Feliciano's shaky answer.

"Now, come on." He took both kitchen aprons, which was hanged on the hook near doorframe, and he threw one of them to Feliciano. "We need to make a dinner for three people."

"Three?" North Italy gave him weird look.

"Me, you and tomato bastard." South Italy explained and gazed at Spain. "You will stay for some pizza, right?"

"Of course." Spain smiled to them. "I can even help you."

"No, thanks."

So Antonio only left the room. Italian brothers were alone. Feliciano started to prepare ingredients for a dough, while Romano was making pizza sauce from his tomatoes. They both were working in silence. North Italy didn't like it.

"Brother are you still mad at me?" He asked carefully.

Romano looked at him with surprise.

"No, actually no." He began, preparing the sauce.

"That's fine." North Italy only smiled and returned to work. "I don't like it, when you mad at me."

South Italy didn't say anything. He was just making sauce for pizza, he was going to serve his brother and Antonio. But the one-sided civil war had been ended.

* * *

**I'm not satisfied with ending, so if you have any suggestions, you can share it with me.**

**And that's all. Unless you want omake about Spain and little!South Italy.**


	4. Omake

**So here it is - promised omake with Spain and Chibimano. Enjoy.**

**Omake**

"Romano!" Spain was standing at his henchman door, wondering what was going on. "Romano, open it, please."

"No fucking way, bastard! Go away!" said the angry Italian.

South Italy hadn't left his room since he suddenly stopped cleaning and ran away. Spain didn't know, what happened. Romano always was difficult to read. He could be angry for almost everything – from bad taste of breakfast, through the fact that his work required something, which was too hard for him, to something Antonio had said or done. Only careful listening of his rant would give Antonio any idea, what could be wrong.

Now Spain was waiting for his maid to bring him spare key to South Italy's room. Meanwhile he tried to make Romano let him in willingly.

"Romano, please, tell me what are you angry at." Spain plead patiently.

"Go away, bastard!" South Italy screamed, but then he added, almost whispering: "Leave me alone…"

His voice was sad, like he was going to cry. For a few seconds there was only silence, but Spain put his ear to the door and began to listen carefully. He raised his eyebrows with shock, when he heard sounds of sobs on the other side of the door. Romano was crying. For Antonio this sound was heartbreaking. Whatever happened, it didn't made Romano mad. It made him sad.

"Romano, are you hurt anywhere?" Spain began.

"Shut up, tomato bastard! I told you to leave me alone!"

"I will, but you have to tell me, what's going on."

"Why do you even care? I'm the worst servant you ever had! You should get rid of me long time ago!"

For a moment Spain was thinking about what he just heard. Is that's why he was sad? He thought that others finds him useless? Antonio leaned closer to Romano's door and said:

"I don't think like that, really, and I don't want to rid of you either."

"You're saying that to fool me, but I know, that's what you think!"

"Sire, here's the key." Maid stood beside Antonio and leaned the item in his direction. He took it and nodded to her.

"Thank you. You can leave." He whispered. But no matter if Romano heard this conversation or not, Antonio still was going to open his door.

He put the key to the hole and turned it twice. Then he caught the doorknob and opened the door to Romano's room. South Italy was sitting in the corner, hugging his knees. A moment later he put his gaze on Spain and sent him cold look, but the Spaniard could see there only tears. He approached Italy and sat beside him on the floor. He even curled an arm around him, but Romano quickly put it down.

"Leave me alone, bastard." He mumbled and turned his eyes on the floor.

"I'm not going to rid of you, I swear." Antonio tried once again to put his arm on Romano's shoulder, but he didn't succeed. Spain decided to try later and said: "Why are you crying?"

"It's not your damn business."

"Oh, come on." Spain said with grin. "You can tell boss everything."

Romano gazed at him once again, but this time there was no coldness in his eyes, only surprise. Suddenly he burst into tears. Antonio put his hand on child beside him and leaned boy closer to himself. Now Italy's head was resting on Spain's lap. Spain was caressing boy's hair, but he knew that Romano could yell at him in any moment for touching him. Surprisingly for the older man, Romano was only weeping.

"Spain…" He began, all of sudden, and looked at his boss. Spain put his eyes on a child. "Spain, why I am so useless?"

"You're not useless…"

"Yes, I am, bastard." Romano cut him harshly. Then he put his head once again on Antonio's lap. "Few minutes ago I broke another of your vases. I can't even do stupid cleaning properly."

"That's not true." Spain grinned to him friendly. "You're not a bad servant."

"But not as good as Feliciano."

Span saddened. That thing again… He wanted to say something, but he didn't. Probably because when he was going to do it, South Italy spoke once again:

"Everyone likes Feliciano more. He's better than me in painting and trade. He's everything, I'm not. Compared to him," He curled himself into ball and added with sob: "I'm nothing."

"Just because you're not as good painter or merchant as him, it doesn't mean, you're nothing." Antonio said, petting boy's head. "For sure there is something, you're good at."

Romano once again raised his head to look at him, but this time his eyes were filled with both sadness and anger.

"And what it is, dumbass? I can't cook, I'm hopeless with cleaning and I'm weak, so I can't defend myself properly! So what is it that I'm good at, bastard?"

"You should find it yourself." Spain explained with smile. "You should find something, which would give you pleasure. At first you might not doing it well – beginnings are always hard, after all – but as much as you will be making progress, it will bring you satisfaction. So you should try many new things and decide, which ones are worth your effort."

For a moment Romano was speechless. He was only observing his boss and probably pondering, what he just heard. Finally he sniffed twice, wiped his face with sleeve and stood up, saying:

"Thanks a lot, Spain."

Antonio smiled even wider and also stood up.

"You welcome, Romano. Now, excuse me, but I have to go." He turned back and began to walk into door's direction, but he had been stopped by Romano:

"What you will be doing now?"

Spain looked back at him with surprise, but then he smiled.

"Oh, I'm going to harvest tomatoes. They are ripe already."

"Can I go with you?"

Antonio liked this idea. Romano needed something to be good at. Gardening would be as good as everything else.

"Of course. There's not enough arms to help."

He leaned his hand to Romano, who hesitantly took it. Then they started together going to the garden and tomato field.

"I will show you how to do it." Spain said, while walking. "But I'm sure, you will like it."


End file.
